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          Like a lover’s lowest stumble
            Into the belly of the vulture
          Or the way he gently whispers
                                       Your name.

       When he traces your small collarbone
 With soft lips made of sun-touched stone
              Or the pad of his finger against your
                                              Burning tongue
                         Nothing could ever feel the same.



How salmon pelicans flap so slowly

In the sky

It looks as though they are falling


How thunder sounds like mountains cracking

Clean through

As though cleaved by an axe


How a butterfly in a jar beats itself to death

Against glass

With its the will to survive


How the ocean chews away at a beach

In a storm

Trying to swallow it whole


This is how I felt the day you kissed me

That first time

Whilst continents collided and stars fell

Poet: I Have Kept You Now


My darling dear one I have kept
You now for a lifetime in this
Constant chamber of mine
Life and death you breathe through
Me everyday

I have watched you walk the
Shores of your lifetime gathering
Meaningful remnants to cast
Mysterious mutterings left

There is no meaning I hear…

i want to burrow myself…


i want to burrow myself
in the little crevices
between your ribs—
bottle the breaths
of your laughter—
smooth the knots
that bend your soul,
wrestle you down,
headlock you low.

i want to be your pride,
present joy, friend,
and what you find beautiful;
crescent moon
you sketch from a window—
lighting spilling into
your home.

Needless Verbosity


Light and space
 falls into hollow

where You and I lie,

where words
are mute

and in this moment,
and in this silence

without the use of words,
hearing nothing
but the beat of your heart

pulsating your thoughts
like Morse code;

echoes a message
that reverberates
my own pulse—

I understand you


Every Time…


Every time I kissed you,
I left a string of sentences in your mouth,
Hoping that you could taste just how beautiful you are.



The tightrope
to your heart extends,

and as I tread across

placing my steps
 fixing my footing

to match the pace
 of my thoughts

I must keep calm,
 keep focus

for even a feather of 
can tip my balance
and in that moment
I will fall back
into reality’s arms—

your tightrope
 then remains a dream
suspended in the sky

for me again to reach.  

My Soul Is Filled…


My soul is filled
with hyacinths and dead things,
and with it, my sadness reveals
the secrets of stones. 

my heart is pinned 
to the echoes of stars 
where none can catch its

but when I close my eyes, 
my love, past the depths of 
silence, my soul comprehends 
the cerulescent hue of vast
oceans hid behind your eyes.

Teach Me How…


Teach me how to love you,
because I do not know how.
I have mimicked the cry
of a thousand songbirds
and roped in the crescent
of the waning moon,
but it is your heart I cannot
reach to love.
Teach me how to love you,
because I do not know how.
I have wandered through
meadows, uprooted forests,
but I am still lost
in the map of you. 

Teach me how to love you,
because I do not know how. 

The Perfect Lovers


The perfect lovers…

Undaunted by natural aloneness,

For even when alone In mind body or soul

They are crowded with sweetest of fragrance 

Emanated by radiant petals of self compassion… 

Whilst the mollifying arms of Self forgiveness, 

Warms them inside with fire place embraces

Thawing soul freezing fears,

Evaporating tears of megalithic regrets…

Born of self crucifying stress!

O The perfect lovers…

With ease they can mute the world 

By raising volume of whistle blowing silence 

Exposing internal wind chimes, 

Singing wind songs of synchronicity…

Setting mood in solo candlelight dinners they hold,

Where pours their soul into glass 

Stimulating their palates as sacred honey wine… 

For “Self discovery” whets their appetite, 

As the most exotic delectable meal

Ever served on plates tectonic…  


The perfect lovers…

Impervious to lonely nights, 

For their minds kisses their soul,

With lips of sun loving the moon…

Never craving crumbs… Modicum of heavens sought… 

Pseudo Love for sale, gullible souls have bought…

O no… They drown themselves in steamy

Massaging waters of self fulfilling romance,

Whilst sipping their souls for wine 

And self serenading with whistle blowing silence!

Exposing subtle symphonies, in winds of synchronicity 

Carrying feet of a stranger,predestined to land by their feet…

A future lover? O yes- t’is their beloved!                 

As cosmically promised…

A mirroring lover, reflecting self fulfilling romance, 

They’ve held for eons, with oneself…

For they know… No soul can truly fall for another, 

By existing outside of love… For the self…

Poem by: Ramaatis


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